Booth felt his attention slipping as Brennan and a stooped, wizened old man discussed a recent study on an obscure African tribe. Recalling Brennan's fingers ghosting over his stomach, Booth repressed his urge to shiver by sipping on the champagne his partner had pressed into his hands when they had entered the main banquet hall. His mind lulled by Brennan's voice, Booth swept his eyes across the whole room. Men and women in evening wear flittered back and forth, the light murmur of conversation ebbing and flowing.

'Booth?' He heard Brennan's voice call him. Turning his head, he found her looking at him with a bemused smile on her face.

'What?' He asked, feeling a smile tugging at his lips.

'Worship means that I am supposed to be the object of reverent adoration. I think that ignoring me while I engage in conversation defeats that purpose,' Brennan answered.

'Bones, if I paid complete and utter attention to every word that you say to any of these people,' Booth began, gesturing towards the crowd, 'I would have to check myself into a psych ward or something just like Angela said. Or at least carry around some kind of dictionary.'

'They have those compact electronic dictionaries now. Maybe you'd like one?' Brennan retorted as Booth glared at her.

'Shouldn't you be worshipping me too? After all those equal rights speeches I've had to endure, I think that this worshipping thing swings both ways,' Booth replied. Brennan shifted closer to him, running a finger down his jaw.

'You'd like that, wouldn't you?' She asked him huskily. Booth swallowed, the grip on his glass tightening. He could smell her perfume and that look she was wearing…

Clearing his throat abruptly, Booth took a small step back. He thought he saw a flicker of disappointment in Brennan's eyes but dismissed it just as quickly. He doubted that Bones felt the same way.

'So what's the story with you and Michael anyways? I know you and the Professor did the dirty-'

'What we had wasn't dirty Booth. Just because society dictates that students and their educators should not-' Brennan interrupted him defensively.

'I meant sleeping together Bones!' Booth said, his voice slightly raised. He felt Brennan stare angrily at him as several heads turned in their direction. Smiling at them, Booth leaned closer to Brennan, their foreheads almost touching.

'That was in no way deliberate,' Booth whispered. 'It's just that sometimes you frustrate me.'

'You have no idea how egotistical and unbearable you can be, do you?' Brennan whispered back, deliberately touching her forehead to his. Booth felt their eyes lock, and he found it difficult to look away. He swore that he could hear his heart hammering wildly in his chest. Brennan's eyes were a clear turquoise with a hint of green, he noted. He had often found himself entranced by those eyes.

'Tempe.' Michael's voice broke the spell. Booth gritted his teeth as he saw Brennan straighten and face the man. Depositing his champagne glass with a passing waiter, Booth did not hesitate in placing his arm on Brennan's waist and pulling her flush against him. He almost let out a laugh at the murderous expression on Michael's face.

'Michael,' Brennan greeted her one-time lover coolly. She noted that Felicia was not present at his side. Taking comfort in Booth's touch, Brennan eyed Michael with an even stare.

'Temperance, could I speak to you for a moment?' Michael asked her. Brennan waited expectantly. 'Alone?' Michael tried again, when it became obvious that she wasn't going to move.

'I doubt that there is anything else that needs to be said,' Brennan said, feeling Booth's grip on her waist tighten slightly at the word alone.

'Please Tempe.' It was the pleading note in his voice that got her.

'Bones, you aren't seriously going to-'

'I'll just be a minute Booth,' Brennan told her partner.

'Bones, you are not speaking with him alone.'

'Booth, he's not going to try anything. We're in a crowded place with a lot of people. Plus, I have the killer self-defense moves remember?' Brennan reminded.

'No. I don't like it.'

'Booth!' Brennan hissed, 'don't be difficult. I will make sure you have a clear view of us when I speak to him.'

'But-'

Brennan gently removed the hand on her hip and gave it a small squeeze. 'I'll be fine Booth,' she whispered, trying to ignore the piercing look that Michael was giving them. 'Really.'

Booth looked at her, struggling to mask his feelings. 'Fine,' he finally agreed, expelling a tired breath. 'But I want to be able to see you. As in two eyes and free of any kind of obstruction, got it?'

Brennan just nodded her head. Booth pointed a finger at Michael. 'If she so much as looks like she's-'

'I got it,' the Professor said, raising his palms in surrender.

Brennan could feel Booth's eyes on the back of her head as she followed Michael out of earshot. She had to admit that although Booth's alpha male tendencies tended to try her last nerve, at times it filled her with a kind of warmth. It was nice having him look out for her.

'What is it Michael?' Brennan finally asked when they had both stopped. Though there were guests around them, they were few and wouldn't likely disturb them.

'I'm sorry,' Michael finally said, after a few hesitant moments.

'What for? For telling the truth?' Brennan replied wryly. 'You were just listening to your jury consultant, something which I didn't.'

'You know I didn't mean those things I said,' Michael rejoined. He grew increasingly uncomfortable under the intense stare that Brennan was giving him.

'I am cold and heartless, Michael. I have had enough people call me that over the years to make such words meaningless. But when you question my dedication to find out who killed a nineteen year old girl,' Brennan started and then stepped back when Michael tried to touch her arm. 'I will be civil to you Michael. We can do civility. It's what we're good at. The sex was good but in the end, we were always just civil.'

'I love you Tempe,' Michael told her earnestly. Brennan stared at him, feeling the air suck out of her.

'Love?' Brennan stated mindlessly. Snapping back, she drew herself up straight. 'You don't love me Michael.'

'Is this because of Booth?' Michael asked her, his face hardening. 'You can't obviously think that he's really interested in you. Sure, he might want a few good nights in bed and then-'

A resounding crack cut him short. Clutching his face, Michael winced as Brennan drew back her hand.

'Don't you ever speak about Booth like that. You'd be lucky to be half the man he is,' Brennan murmured harshly, a sheen of tears glazing over her eyes. Ignoring the horrified eyes upon her, Brennan regarded the stunned and angry look upon her ex-lover's face.

'Is there a problem here?' Booth asked, reaching them after hastily plowing his way through the crowd. He had started forward the moment he had seen Michael try to touch his partner. He noted the blooming red mark on Michael's cheek with a small measure of satisfaction. Instinctively placing himself between Brennan and the man, he paused when he felt Brennan graze his arm.

Stepping to his side, Brennan mustered up the coldest look she could. 'We're done here, Professor Stires. I hope George Washington treats you well.'

Turning on her heel, Brennan walked away. Booth considered the man before him, his fists clenching.

'You're lucky I don't have my gun,' Booth finally said, before hurrying after Brennan.